puppet government
BY GEORGE REVELLE
Year after year they came back,
despite his constant refusals. And
still Brandon couldn't figure
out why he was so important....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Brandon was looking at his desk again.
An artificial grin spread across the narrow face of the Secretary of Interior who was watching him closely. The Secretary's pencil-thin fingers continued to toy with the small, wood figure he was holding. "Brandon," he tried to lie gracefully, "You're a card. A real card."
Brandon shifted his position, brought his attention back to the thin man with the receding hairline. He couldn't, for the life of him, remember anything humorous he had said or done. He was too tired to be jovial. The past few days had sapped his strength. He was exhausted and there were still two more interviews scheduled.
Good Lord, he thought. Two more! He found his eyes wandering back to his desk. He would never finish the papers in time. That would mean a severe penalty.